


Better Than Fiction

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, R/NC-17 - Brown Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-08
Updated: 2009-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-20 19:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12440361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: sam/gene smut in a library forcandesgirl





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written using the 3AM Epiphany prompt (first person, only two uses of personal pronouns allowed, 600words).  


* * *

  
It’s almost midnight, the library is silent, and would be blessedly empty if not for the two detectives researching psychosis in connection with their case. The taller, larger man (who is _still_ wearing his heavy set camel hair coat) is pacing restlessly in front of the table where his slighter colleague (with the strange haircut) is seated. The latter appearing to be either completely absorbed in his reading or going to considerable effort to ignore the other man. Without warning the larger man stalks forward and grabs the book, throwing it across the floor and slamming his hands down on the desk. From my vantage point behind the shelves it is difficult to bite back a cry at the mistreatment of the medical journal but the other librarians have long since left, and to be caught staying behind to observe the (not unhandsome) pair would be mortifying.

The smaller man glares up angrily and rises to his feet, he looks as though he is about to yell when, suddenly,  he is assaulted with a vicious punch to the ribs. As he doubles over one hand darts out to grab his collar while the other wrenches his left arm behind his back, pinning it there with practiced ease. From that position the man is pulled back upwards and slammed face first into the shelving, the strong arms holding him there so closely that he must be inhaling dust from the various tomes his forehead is pressed against.

Suddenly the hand at his neck drops and begins tugging feverishly at his clothes, pulling his leather jacket open to get at the shirt underneath. Closing his eyes, the man flinches as the polyester material is lifted and replaced with a large hand pressed flat against his abdomen, pushing him backwards into the curve of the body behind him. The two of them remain in that intimate position for a short while, breathing loud enough to be heard from several feet away. Slowly, but with such brazen determination impossible to mistake for tentativeness, the hand moves lower, slinking under the waistband of his pants, stalling only when it reaches its desired target. Lips half-pressed against the shorter man’s neck curve into a smirk at the shallow breathing this action provokes. The younger man in particular looks as though he is withholding a groan as the oppressive tightness of the brown corduroy against his groin limits the movement of those long fingers, which must now be stroking against bulging hardness. He whimpers softly, a sound of raw need and desire, and seems unaware of his arm being released until a palm is clamped down over his mouth to muffle the noise. A scratch of teeth against his ear a non-verbal warning to keep silent.

As the fingers curl into a fist, gripping him, a surprised gasp suggests that he has begun teasing the flesh held against his mouth with his tongue, no doubt coordinating each lick to the timing of the pulling and squeezing.

Before long the hand working his cock becomes less coaxing and more frenzied, and he throws his body further backwards, writhing in an attempt to feel as much of the man around him as possible.

When he comes, with a muffled moan, in short shuddering waves; his entire body arches, exposing his long neck as he allows his head to loll gently on the other man’s shoulder. It is only the support of the man behind him that prevents his limp body from sinking to the ground, while firm kisses are pressed against his throat.

As thick, sticky fingers unfurl and the hand lazily traces back across his stomach the man twists in the embrace so that he is facing his lover with a breathless laugh and a small smile.

“Gene, what the ‘ell was that about?”  
 _  
“Gene”_ sniffs, and releasing him, turns away. Picking a book off the shelf at random, he wipes his hand on the pages and then, closing it, places it back.

“You were _ignoring_ me.” The gruff voice is petulant and the other man grins, a pleasant transformation of his features that makes him appear years younger. He looks as though he is about to say something teasing but suddenly Gene is on him again, grasping him by the shoulders and leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And I," he pauses to pull the man closer to him before continuing, "...just thought I’d _grab_ yer attention.”

Shivering at the predatory growl Gene emits, and despite longing to stay, I creep backwards out of the room through the still open door, careful to avoid notice. Remaining to listen further would be to flirt with discovery and although it might be slightly ironic to acknowledge the thought now; the two unlikely lovers are (after all) entitled to _some_ privacy.


	2. Part 2

  
Author's notes: for [severinne](http://www.livejournal.com/~severinne)  


* * *

******************************************************

“You were ignoring me.”

_The gruff voice is petulant and the other man grins, a pleasant transformation of his features that makes him appear years younger. He looks as though he is about to say something teasing but suddenly Gene is on him again, grasping him by the shoulders and leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And I," he pauses to pull the man closer to him before continuing, "...just thought I'd grab yer attention." Gene_ _emits_ _a_ _predatory growl..._

******************************************************  
   


  
"Christ Gene, if that's what I get for ignoring you what can I get for paying attention?"   
 

Gene releases me and leans back against the bookcase. He folds his arms over his chest, pouting like the great, big, beer-swilling, cigarette-puffing child he is.   
 

"Guess you'll never know seein' as you'd 'ave to pay attention to find out."   
  
 

I remove my jacket and place it on the desk behind me before slowly making my way over to him. I don't stop until we're close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath on my face.   
 

"Hmmm?" Wrapping my arms around his neck I pull our bodies closer together. "Well, I think it's safe to say my ... _attention_ ," I emphasise the word by bucking my hips into his, _"..._ is all yours now, Guv." He lowers his head so that his face rests against my neck and I feel his lips curve into a smirk against my skin.   
 

"Is that right you little tart?"

 

I nod and arch my neck away from him until he pulls back and glares down at me with a disgruntled expression. He moves one of his hands to grope my arse and I quickly cover it with my own, simultaneously squeezing it and holding it there.   
 

"Go on then. Show me what the great, big, _captivating_ Gene Hunt is going to do with it."   
 

His eyes widen slightly before narrowing into suspicious blue slits as he tries to decide whether my words are a challenge or a request.   
 

"You thinkin' you deserve a reward Tyler?” He asks and I shake my head.   
 

"I never said anything about wanting a reward." I bring my other hand down to press against his chest and move my lips to his ears. I lower my voice in both volume and tone " _You_ have my undivided attention,” his breathing hitches, "what _else_ would you like from me?"   
 

He grabs at my arse with his other hand and grins.   
 

"Motor could use a good wash."

I roll my eyes and push him back further into the book case.   
 

"I know for a fact it's not even remotely _filthy_." I shift my hand from his chest to his crotch and push against him thorough the material, squeezing hard. "Try again.”

"Ahh...ah... wouldn't say no to a pint"   
 

I grin and undo his belt and zipper, snaking a hand underneath his briefs to curl around his cock. He bucks his hips and moans in anticipation.   
 

"Wrong again." Slowly I sink to my knees and carefully pull out his half-hard length.   
 

"Wha... uh..." He goes silent when I open my mouth and lick a long, wet stripe from the base to the tip. I smile up at him and then lean forward to blow down along the moistened skin. His body shudders and I can't contain a smirk as the sudden movement knocks books from the shelves.   
 

"SAM!"

I tilt my head to the side and look up at him innocently, pretending not to have heard his outburst.   
 

"Funny, when I do _that_ your _entire_ body shivers."   
 

He smacks the back of my head.   
 

"It's not a lollipop you bastard. Get. On. With. It."   
 

I take him into my mouth briefly, lapping at the skin with my tongue, before pulling back.   
 

"Mmmmm tastes sweet enough."  I lick my lips.  
  
He growls.   
  
"You- kinky- bastard!"

  


Before I can wonder how it's possible to use the words as a term of endearment Gene shoves a hand in my hair and uses it as leverage to push back into my mouth.   
 

Without missing a beat Gene begins fucking my mouth like a man possessed, pausing only to groan as I ruthlessly use tongue and teeth to offset his pleasure with pinpricks of pain. When he finally reaches his breaking point he comes silently, showing more control than I thought him capable of. He refuses to pull out at first, waiting until I've swallowed him all down to collect himself. Gene then sinks to his knees and pulls me in for a kiss. While our mouths clumsily collide I wonder if he can taste his own bitterness on my tongue.   
 

Once we eventually break apart I'm left breathless but not speechless.   
 

"Still think I'm neglecting you?"   
 

Gene grins, one of those rare teeth-revealing ones that are so bloody irresistible.   
 

" 'Spose not." he answers, I grin back.   
 

"That's a relief...." I trail off as I notice him staring at me, a mischievous smile quirking his lips upwards. "What is it?"   
  
  
"You know Tyler, I think I might be feelin' slightly distracted."

  


I bite back the groan that threatens to spill from my lips. Instead I opt for a raised eyebrow and a wry smile.   
 

"Are you now?" I ask.   
 

The smug bastard nods.   
 

"Up for a repeat performance, Sammy Boy?" He grins again and _actually_ winks at me.

I grin back.   
 

After all, the morning staff won't start arriving for another hour yet.   
 


End file.
